Summer on Film
by ofadventure
Summary: Santana, Mercedes, and Brittany have all graduated high school and are now on their way to LA as part of the reformed 'Troubletones'. Brittany is capturing everything on camera, including the moments Santana and Mercedes would probably rather forget, and we'll be following them through the trials and tribulations of starting a new life in California.
1. Prologue

**So short it doesn't even deserve to be called a prologue, but that's exactly what it is.

**Rating: **PG-13 (for now)  
**Spoilers:** (or 'warning for what canon I'm using') This story takes season one and two as canon, and obviously also follows the formation of The Troubletones in season three. The rest of season three (aside from Valentine's day) isn't relevant here, aside from the Glee club winning Nationals. And I don't even want to talk about season four. In this story, Mercedes, Brittany, and Santana are all graduating together and hitting LA as a team.  
**Summary:** Based on a wonderful Troubletones AU gifset over on Tumblr. Brittany, Santana, and Mercedes are moving to LA and re-forming The Troubletones, thanks to some relocation help from Sugar Motta (she/her incredibly wealthy family are funding their new accommodation). Brittany, in true Brittany fashion, will be filming their escapades, and this is basically the story of how that goes down.  
**A/N: **I've been wanting to write this since I saw the first gifset, and I started planning it at the beginning of this year. Then I left it behind, because I decided I should probably distance myself from Glee while season four was happening. Now I'm in need of a summer project, so I thought this would have the potential to be fun. I have plans for it, both new and old, but I'm hoping the story will weave its own journey as I write it.

* * *

"This is Brittany S. Pierce, Trendiest Girl in America, host of Fondue for Two, and star of 2 Girls, 1 Cat here to tell you about my awesome new show."

Brittany is using her final day in Lima to pitch the idea she has for a new video documentary to the two girls she's relying on to star in it. Mercedes is sitting cross-legged on the grass in Santana's back yard, shading her eyes from the sun as she watches Brittany talk to camera in a polished way she's never quite seen before. Sure, she's been a part of Fondue for Two, but that was nothing like this. Today there's no overheated cheese involved, and Lord Tubbington is eating from a bowl the way normal cats do. It feels surreal. Meanwhile, Santana has a sickeningly sweet smile on her face as she gives her girlfriend the thumbs up from where she's leaning against a wall sipping a cocktail. It's enough to make Mercedes gag, but only because she had to say goodbye to Sam last week when he decided that some kind of convention was more important than spending a final week with her. She lets it go.

"This summer I'm heading to LA with my gorgeous, talented girlfriend Ms. Santana Lopez," Brittany gestures to Santana, beckoning her to go stand by her side. She accepts the invitation, planting a kiss on Brittany's cheek and waving to the camera in an effortlessly sexy pose. Mercedes clears her throat.

"And," Brittany continues, "the wonderful Mercedes Jones is coming along with us, even though she's sad about leaving her big-mouthed boyfriend behind."

"Cut!" Mercedes yells, standing up and dusting off her pants (luckily they're green, so the grass stains hardly show. She thanks her lucky stars that she chose to ignore Kurt's advice of never 'dressing like nature'; camouflage was invented for a reason).

"You can't yell cut in the middle of a home movie," Santana rolls her eyes. "Britt edits once everything's on film. She's an_artist_; capturing everything is her _process_. I think she was doing an awesome job."

Mercedes screws up her face, and makes a point of placing one hand on her hip as if to assert some authority over the scene.

"One," she begins, "Brittany won't be _capturing everything_ for this project. We'll make rules, and she'll stick to them. Two, I _ain't _sad about leaving Sam behind. He's a big boy, he has plans here, he'll call me every night. Three."

"We get it, Wheezy," Santana steps out from behind the camera, and this time she's smiling sweetly at Mercedes. "You and Sam have nothing to worry about, you have an adult relationship that can work long-distance, and it's not like you guys even have sex anyway. Skype is _way _more efficient for that kind of thing. Hey!"

She stops speaking abruptly as a hose turns on her. There's squealing, and swearing, and something about expensive hair and revenge, but Mercedes doesn't seem fazed by it. The hose stays directed at Santana, Lord Tubbington goes on eating, and Brittany keeps the camera rolling. This is going to be her best. project. ever.


	2. Chapter One

"This roadtrip was Britt's idea," Santana speaks to the camera from her position on the sofa, where she's filing her nails for the fifth time this morning. It's only 9am, and Mercedes can't help but wonder what she's doing with them that they need filing so damn much. Still, Santana on the sofa is a better Santana than the one who was frantically going through her closet late last night, leaving a trail of clothes strewn over anything, or anyone, who dared get too close. She doesn't want to think what their shared living space in LA is going to be like if that was the mess she was capable of making in a fifteen minute search for a particular top. Still, apparently it was a special top with some kind of significant meaning, and she can understand that given that she's wearing her lucky underwear today. Everyone needs a little something to hold onto.

"Our _femme fatale_ friend, Sugar, offered to fund our flight out of here, but Britt thought this would give us a chance to experience America like never before, and I agree. We need song inspiration, and this is clearly the best way to get it." Brittany begins to turn the camera on Mercedes, to get her input on the situation, but Santana drops her nail file and focusses the camera back on herself.

"Just because we're road-tripping, don't think this isn't going to be the most glamorous arrival in LA since forever. Our van has AC, we've planned the journey to perfection with rest-stops on the way, and we won't be camping, we have hotel rooms."

"_Motel_ rooms," Mercedes chips in, with a smirk.

"And I," Brittany turns the camera on herself, "made us a special playlist for the journey. Our friend, Rachel," she winks and waves to the camera, forcing Santana to frown like a cat that just had its lunch taken away, "gave me some suggestions, and I can't wait to share it with everyone. What do you have to say Mercedes?"

"I say.." Mercedes trails off as Lord Tubbington scurries across the room with some kind of squishy object in his mouth, and Brittany's attention goes to that. So instead of saying what she was going to say, she settles for thinking it instead: _if Journey starts playing she's filing a lawsuit against Rachel, Mr. Schue, and everyone at McKinley who thought it was a good idea to get kids hooked on 80's rock anthems._

* * *

The camera is turned off while final preparations for the trip take place. Britt's the only one who really has enough experience with the camera to go about her usual routine while talking to it, and even she's too nervous to do that right now. She doesn't want to forget anything for the biggest journey of her life.

"I can't eat this," Brittany shakes her head at the bagel that's been in front of her for the past fifteen minutes. Santana and Mercedes breathe a sigh of relief at her speaking up; they feel the same way, but as this is Brittany's house, and her Mom made them especially for the girls as a way to send them off on their way, they were reluctant to speak up.

"We can pack them up," Santana suggests. "We'll be hungry in like an hour, we can eat then." Brittany nods, and her Mom (who's always been nothing but kind to all three girls) packs them into a chilled lunch box and places it in the middle of the table. She strokes Brittany's hair, hardly believing that her girl is leaving for LA in the next hour. She always knew her daughter was special, and ambitious, and dedicated to her passions with her whole heart, but eighteen years has gone by so fast. Brittany can sense her sadness, and she gets up from her seat and embraces her in a big hug. She'll miss her Mom, of course, but everyone who's ever been important to her has remained steady in her heart and mind forever. And this isn't like when she had to say goodbye to Teddy, her first ever cat, or even the doll she lost at the mall when she was four years old; her Mom will still be around, and they'll call each other the way they've always done whenever Britt's been away from home overnight. Moving to LA is more permanent than cheerleading camp, but change doesn't have to mean forgetting what's here in Lima. It doesn't mean forgetting what will always be here at home for her, whenever she needs it.

Time that flies for some people passes unbearably slowly for others. Santana has a loving family, and a comfortable home life, but Lima has felt like a prison to her for too long. Outside the four walls of her house, and Brittany's embrace, she still fails to feel one-hundred percent herself here in Ohio. Aside from how the eighteen years of her life have dragged all too often, this morning has taken an eternity to pass. If details had been down to her, she would have been on the road at dawn, but everyone else wanted to skip the early morning traffic that comes from a bright, summer's day. She has a feeling in her gut that something is going to go wrong; that her parents will suddenly change character and withdraw their blessing for the trip, and even though she's eighteen and has been making her own decisions for years now, she'll somehow be unable to go through with the move unless those she loves are behind her. She's more fidgety than usual, and she's been passing the time by styling and re-styling her hair. Brittany, who's been observing her behaviour closely, is kind of worried that she'll be without nails, and without hair, by the time they leave the house. But then she remembers what Santana has always told her about being able to buy the body parts that fail her, and she smiles to herself in a way that makes Mercedes suspicious of what's going on under the kitchen table that she can't see.

* * *

They pile into the van at 11am. Mercedes has been blasting music in her ears since breakfast, in an attempt to channel her nerves into something creative. She hasn't exactly been in the mood for song writing, so listening and singing along is the next best thing. Santana yanks her headphones from her as she sits behind the wheel, insisting that everyone's going to listen to Britt's choice of music, at least until they pass through Illinois. Mercedes obeys, and vows to say nothing about Santana being whipped, at least until they arrive in St. Louis.

Brittany fixes her camera to a special stand on the dashboard, and turns it on. After settling into her seat, she begins to speak.

"This is Brittany S. Pierce, welcoming you to the very first day of our roadtrip." She turns to smile at the other girls. "Santana and Mercedes are here with me, and they're driving us. I'm in control of music, general trivia, donut stops, and the camera. Last time Santana used the camera she forgot to turn it on, and Mercedes broke her cell phone last week, so I don't trust her." She leans forward, and presses play on the mp3 player she planted in the van earlier. Kelly Clarkson begins to play, and Mercedes is both surprised, and happy, with the choice. She really shouldn't doubt the music taste of someone she's hoping to make it with in the music industry, but knowing that Rachel (of questionable original song fame) was involved in compiling the list, she thinks she's right to be a little wary.

As they pull out of the driveway, Mercedes in firm control of the van for the first hour of their journey, their nerves almost simultaneously turn to uncontrollable excitement. Brittany smiles to herself, because she totally knows that her choice of music is what's banished the nerves. This is a song they've sung acoustically more than once, when warming up for competitions, and back at Santana's house during their infamous 'planning' sleepovers (not a lot of planning was done, but Santana's karaoke machine had taken quite a beating) and she'd known that all they needed to enjoy themselves was to be taken back to a time when they were carefree, and just a little buzzed on alcohol. That's what she loves about music; the idea that she can change her mood whenever she likes if she's singing along to the right song with the right kind of people. And that's why she can't wait to get to LA, she already knows how much better everything's going to sound there.

* * *

_Break legs! Love from Kurt and I in New York xoxo_

Santana's phone buzzes after just fifteen minutes on the road. It's a text from Rachel, and she smiles at the fact that someone she once saw as her enemy has remembered what they're doing today. Rachel herself only arrived in New York a week ago, with Kurt by her side, and she would have forgiven them both for being so tied up in their own new life that they failed to acknowledge what was going on in theirs. Apparently their promise to stay in touch beyond high school was going to be followed through, at least for a while. She responds with a smiley face, before putting her phone safely back in the pocket of her jeans.

"We should stop for donuts," Brittany says, finishing off the bagel she'd pulled out after singing along to just two songs.

"Britt, we're not even out of Lima yet. Indiana donuts are way better than Ohio ones." Santana doesn't want to stop until her hometown is out of sight. She doesn't want to spend a minute longer here than she has too.

"_Please_, San. Just one last donut at Happy Holes, I have to say bye to the owners."

"I say yes to stopping," Mercedes pipes up, already turning down the street that leads to the less-than-bustling centre of Ohio.

"Say what," Santana turns her head to look at Mercedes beside her. "Ms. Plan Everything To The Last Second suddenly wants to change route in the first half hour? No way."

"Yes way," Mercedes replies. "I need to pee." She pulls over, and Brittany immediately hops out of the door and runs to the donut shop. Mercedes jumps out of the other door, and Santana is left in the middle seat rolling her eyes. In the midst of her feigned annoyance, she smiles. She might still be in the middle of her hometown, waiting on a friend with a weak bladder, and a girlfriend with an unbelievable craving for donuts sold by outrageously named local stores, but everything already feels as though its changed. She's on her way to another life, where she won't always be in control of what happens to her, but where she knows she'll have the unfailing support of two of the best people she knows. In a head that's often been full of self-defence mechanisms, and biting remarks, this feeling of freedom is a wonderful thing.

* * *

**A/N: This was supposed to be ready to post within two days of the prologue but, without going into my life story, evidently it was not. I'm aiming for weekly updates from now on (although they might be more regular while chapters are still relatively short and introductory). The way I write means that I generally post as soon as I have a chapter written, so if inspiration hits often the updates will be often, if I'm lacking in inspiration I'll still attempt to not keep you holding on too long. Thank you so much to those of you who read/reviewed/followed when all you had to go on was a few hundred words of prologue. I really do appreciate words of encouragement. I'm excited to be writing this, and I hope I can capture the characters as you'd like to read them.**


	3. Chapter Two

There comes a time, during every four-day road trip, when a four-day road trip no longer seems like a good idea.

"It's 2.30am, and Mercedes is lost." Brittany smiles sleepily at the camera. "Santana fell asleep an hour ago, which is totally unlike her. I think she's tired from all the rehearsing we did yesterday." She rolls her eyes up, thinking for a moment. "No, the day before yesterday. We're in tomorrow now."

Through all this, Mercedes is frantically trying to get a signal on her phone so she can access the GPS. Whoever thought it was a good idea to set out on a cross-country journey with only a map needs a good talking to. This is the 21st century, she should _not_ be sitting in a cold van in the pitch black, on a road she doesn't even know. Still, she waves for the camera when Brittany tilts it towards her, and says, with a smile, "It's all under control!"

She hopes it is.

They've been lectured numerous times on safety when travelling in a small group, and for that reason they've made certain to stick to main routes, and their carefully worked out plan means that they should arrive at each overnight location before the sun goes down. Unfortunately, none of them realized exactly how difficult it would be to stick to a carefully worked out plan. Between stopping twice for food, going off-route once because Santana saw a sign for a circus and thought it might be fun, half-unloading the van when Lord T went walkabouts (after _someone_ unfastened his travel cage) they're now running way behind schedule. Mercedes knows they're near a town, she just doesn't know whether it's the _right_ town or not. And if it's not the right town, there's a good chance they'll be sleeping in the van overnight. Brittany might be able to encourage Santana to sleep through the night with the twirling of her hair she's doing, and the way she's whispering soothing words to her whenever she stirs a little, but no one wants to see the fallout in the morning if none of them have been able to access a shower or hair straighteners.

"I think we should try that way," Brittany says, pointing to their right. They don't have much choice, it's either right or straight ahead, so Mercedes nods silently and puts her foot down. Right it is.

* * *

The first day of driving had been supposed to take seven hours, plus a one hour break for food, meaning they would arrive at their motel in St. Louis in between 8 and 9pm. After their first stop in Lima, the drive had been going smoothly for at least two hours. They left Ohio to an apt soundtrack of Party in the USA (and Party in the USA remix, followed by Party in the USA acoustic version, apparently too many people have recorded that song). Santana whooped, Brittany joined her, and Mercedes celebrated by calling Sam and warning Santana to keep her hands on the wheel.

Route 70 through Indiana was the longest portion of the pre-lunch day, and the drive was punctuated by bursts of energy, alternating with a flat atmosphere in the front of the van. They were excited to be truly on their way, but exhausted from the anticipatory anxiety they'd all been suffering from. And however exciting a road-trip with close friends sounds like, there's an awful lot of time involved where no one knows what to say, and no one feels like being high-energy. At least that's what they discovered in those first few hours.

It was when they stopped to eat, in Indianapolis, that their well-planned day started to go askew. Not askew in a bad way, unless you look at their current predicament of being lost as the most important outcome of the first day of travel, but askew in a best-laid-plans-must-be-broken kind of way. After all, road trips are way more fun if you don't spend all the time on the road.

* * *

"Hey, do you guys know there's a circus on our way to St. Louis?" It turns out Santana's been Googling while Britt's been feeding her fries, and now she has a plan.

"Nu-uh," Mercedes says, taking a sip of her soda and checking the time on her watch. "I know there's a bed in St. Louis with my name on it, though."

"And there's a bed in St. Louis with my Santana in it," Brittany winks at her, and wipes her greasy fingers on a napkin.

"Sure there is, babe," Santana smiles at Britt and lifts up her milkshake straw to her mouth to give her a sip. "But this circus has awesome reviews, and we only have to stop for like an hour."

"I don't know, San, we planned everything. And didn't you say you wanted to get to LA with no sign of lost sleep?" Brittany knows Santana's spontaneous nature, and if this circus is anything like the summer fair they went to in Columbus she knows it could be a late, sugar-filled night.

"I need something to Instagram that isn't concrete. Rachel keeps commenting that we look as though we're travelling in circles because every picture is the same. Soon they're gonna think we're on the dullest trip ever." She starts speaking again, before anyone can interrupt her. "And did no one read _The Night Circus_ when Mrs. Bradshaw recced it to us?"

"Did _you_ read it?" Mercedes asks, somewhat puzzled.

"Well, no," she says, sneaking a falafel from Mercedes' plate. "But I watched a trailer for it on Youtube. It was magical." She stands up from her chair, and wipes some crumbs from her lap. "I'm going."

Mercedes scoffs. "Who died and made you president?"

"Don't worry, 'Cedes, we can still detour to Las Vegas for that concert you got tickets to." Maybe Brittany had meant to whisper, but that didn't seem like a slip to Mercedes, it seemed like a 'dropping you in it' kind of thing.

Brittany's smirk tells her she knew exactly what she was doing, and Santana doesn't even have to ask questions to know that Mercedes has made her own plans for this trip. And if Mercedes is getting a concert (although Santana won't say no to stopping off in Las Vegas), _she's_ getting her circus.

* * *

Before they arrive in the small town near St. Louis that Santana is now directing them towards, they take another food break. They hadn't exactly planned on spending this much money on the first day, but maybe they wouldn't be so hungry by tomorrow. Either that, or on their fourth day they'd _have_ to not be hungry, or one of them would have to find a way of earning fast money.

It's immediately after their food break that Brittany decides to take Lord T out of his carry basket for some air. He's never been a well behaved cat, and Santana and Mercedes end up helping her remove boxes in order to find where he's hiding. Luckily it gives Brittany some interesting footage for her video, and Santana Instagrams herself in the back of the van. Rachel immediately comments that it looks as though she's in either a very dark dressing room, or an outside bathroom, to which Santana responds with something in Spanish that an online translator might have some trouble with. And then they're on their way again, off-route, but all under control thanks to their new Google knowledge of the state.

* * *

"The first all-female flying troop in the area." Mercedes reads from the pamphlet she's been given as they head inside the circus gates. "I guess we know why Santana's here."

"Magic, Mercedes." Santana taps the side of her nose, with a sly smirk playing on her lips. "It's magic."

"This is pretty awesome," Brittany glances around her, at the throngs of people moving past them as they walk slowly to the main tented area where the show is due to start in the next hour. "Look," she nudges Mercedes and points towards a guy in a leotard, who obviously belongs to the show. "A little something for you, too." Mercedes rolls her eyes, but she blushes anyway.

They each buy a warm pretzel on their way into the tent, with Santana vowing to hit the gym as soon as she reaches LA. Brittany reminds her that she looks awesome with the gym or without it, and anyway, there's something she can think of that will burn more calories than running on the spot in a sweaty room. Mercedes gets a text from Sugar, just before turning her phone off, that tells them she's already arrived in California and she got stopped at the airport by a group of tourists who thought she was Jen Aniston. It isn't clear whether she corrected them, but they all guess not.

Cameras aren't allowed in the main tent, because of flashes and safety concerns, but Brittany wants to capture the way Santana's face is glowing. She pulls out her phone before the show begins, and sneaks a picture. She's never been to a circus with Santana, only a few funfairs. She's heard tales about them from Santana, though. She used to visit them regularly as a child, and her face always lights up when she talks about them. This is that times a hundred. She looks relaxed and at home here, and she grips Brittany's hand as the band starts to play.

By the middle of the second act, an amazing solo trapeze artist, no one would be able to tell that this wasn't a planned group outing. Mercedes keeps gasping in awe, and gripping Santana's arm, and Brittany vows to visit a circus at _least_ once a month if it makes everyone this happy.

During the intermission is when Santana begins to get sleepy. It's been an exhausting day; an exhausting week; an exhausting year. Still, she sits through the second half of the show, and the warm cider Brittany buys her as they exit seems to wake her up a little.

"We should totally come back here if LA doesn't work out," she says, once they're back on the road again. "I could do that spinning thing."

"Of course you could," Brittany says, stroking her hair as she leans against her shoulder. "You can do anything."

* * *

"We finally arrived at the motel. It's just past three in the morning." Brittany whispers, her face close to the camera. "Santana's still sleeping, but I'm gonna wake her up now." She leans across, blocking the view of Santana for the camera, but that's probably for the best. Santana would no way let her use footage of the way her face looks when she's just been woken.

"Wakey wakey," she gently rocks Santana's shoulder, while Mercedes concentrates on assuring her Mom that yes, they've finally arrived at destination number one. Santana wakes with a start, and immediately feels around her as though she's searching for something. Then she notices Brittany.

"Where are we, babe?" she asks groggily.

"Saint Charles. We got lost, but we're here now."

"Awesome." She looks at the time on her cell phone. "Whoa, not so awesome. Can we check in?"

"Well, that was the plan," Mercedes answers her. "I'll get our overnight bags, you concentrate on stayin' awake while you find a bed."

"Hey, I can stay awake," she says, stifling a yawn.

"Let it go, San. You've been asleep for ages, and Mercedes stalled us once." Brittany kisses her cheek. "Let's get to bed."

You see, when a four-day road trip has begun to look like a bad idea, it can be easily recovered from. All you need is sleep, a nice warm breakfast, and maybe some morning kisses before getting back on the road again.

* * *

**A/N: I know it's only been a day, but I got this idea and decided I may as well write it and publish it because there's a good chance I'll be away from my laptop for a few days after today. I hope the change in tenses, and going back and forth in time wasn't too confusing to read. It worked for me while writing it, so I hoped it would work for you guys too.**

**Thanks for the continued reviews. I'm so glad it's making some of you laugh, and bodybroke I've noticed that Santana is often eager to get out of Lima in the few fics I've read. I know that I was really worried that something would stop me from reaching university in my final year of high school studies, and that's really where her desperation for Santana to get out before something bad happened to her came from. And being back in a small town right now, even at the age of twenty-three, I know I'm still desperate to leave because I just don't feel right here. I think it's something a lot of us can identify with.**

** mylittlefaith When I started writing this, I thought I was going to spend ages on the road trip and then struggle to get ideas for the rest of the fic. Then I started getting ideas for the rest of it, and immediately wanted to speed through the road trip in one chapter. I think I've got the balance right in my head now, so I'm planning on spending just a few more chapters on getting them to LA, and then I'll focus on what they're doing while there. I have more trips planned for them throughout the story, so hopefully some hi-jinxs will be featured there.**

**It really does inspire me to see what parts of the fic people are enjoying, and what they're hoping for, so don't be shy about speaking up if you have thoughts.**

**I'm really terrible at making my author's note too long. Feel free to skip these if there's nothing of interest to you.**


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